


your l’manberg

by artanogon



Series: dsmp poems [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Heavy Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Second Person, Poetry, both of those being about wilbur’s death, it follows the events of canon and canon is of course angsty as fuck, not the creators, this fic and all subsequent works are about the characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artanogon/pseuds/artanogon
Summary: Wilbur made a point, once— and he fought for it, and he lost it, and in some ways, he died for it.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: dsmp poems [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172588
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	your l’manberg

**Author's Note:**

> [slaps roof of me] this bad boy can fit so much block men brainrot—
> 
> anyways this is my first time writing for this fandom and it’s just a short poem of angsty wilbur introspection bc family vibes and projecting depression amirite
> 
> //tws ahead for wilbur’s perspective being kinda suicidal and a non-graphic description of when phil stabs him

you made  
a point, once—  
and it was poignant,  
and you wrote a song  
about it—

for hearts and brothers  
and blood and trials and dreams  
for the father  
now gone

it was poignant. it was—  
your l’manberg,  
wasn’t it?

you sung it  
for your brother and  
your family and the man  
who wasn’t there but  
you wish he was

“would he be proud,”  
you wonder, in small  
and cold, and dark pogtopia,  
“of me?”

he’s here, now, and  
he’s not proud, he’s worried—  
he doesn’t hear the song

he doesn’t hear  
the song on the walls  
has never heard it or known  
of the special place,  
where men could go—

had gone, had gone  
you had made it and lost it  
and your hands are shaking  
and the button is _so close, so close—_

you are breaking  
and choking on words  
that you wrote and you sung  
and you yelled and  
you screamed

“kill me!”  
you screamed so loud and  
he heard for once and he moved and  
the sword was in his hands and

and the city was burning  
and crumbling and  
you were bleeding in his arms—

you made a point.  
you made a point.  
you made a point.  
it was poignant.  
and it killed you.

**Author's Note:**

> haha. ouch
> 
> next one in the series shld be a dream poem!


End file.
